


Snow

by rabidchild67



Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A White Collar fairy tale. </p><p>Written for the prompt "snow" on the LJ comm run_the_con</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

“Hey.”

“Oh, hello. Did I fall asleep?” 

“I’ll say you fell asleep – you’re getting your germs all over _my_ bed!”

The sleepiness that had overtaken Neal quickly left him and he scrambled out of the too-small but warm bed, searching desperately for his shoes. “I’m sorry, I got so sleepy,” he said, yawning even as he addressed the small, pale, bald man that stood before him. “I’ll be out of your hair in a jiff.”

“Was that a dig?” the odd man peered up at him suspiciously through thick spectacles. 

“No!” Neal said, mortified to have insulted him. “A figure of speech, that’s all, I swear.” He finished pulling on his shoes and stood up, promptly bashing his head against the low ceiling of the cottage. “Ow.”

“Who cleaned up the place?” another voice said, startling Neal. He spun around. 

“Uh, me,” Neal said to the newcomer. Before him stood a small woman with large brown eyes and light cocoa skin; she was very pretty, if half Neal's size.

“Did someone start dinner?” came another voice, and yet another small person entered the large bedchamber. This one appeared to be older than the other two by quite a lot; he too was pale and nearly painfully thin, but carried himself with a lot of dignity. 

Neal raised his hand in answer to his question. 

The bald one snorted. “So, what, you’re some sort of traveling, one-man cleaning crew who breaks into innocent dwarves’ homes, cooks them dinner, and sleeps in their beds?” he accused.

“Something like that,” Neal answered. Reaching for his cloak, he swung it around his shoulders. “Look, I’m sorry if I bothered you kind folks, but your house looked so warm and I’ve been wandering in these woods for days. I thought I could come in and get some rest, and that you wouldn’t mind if I tidied up a bit and made your supper as payment. I’ll be going.” 

He made for the doorway when he saw another dwarf enter. 

“Who’s the giant?” this one asked, and Neal noticed he had broad shoulders and dark beautiful skin. 

“I dunno, probably a spy,” the bald one said.

“Is everyone a spy to you now?” the female asked, scowling.

“Only a spy would say that,” the bald one retorted, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Jeez, give it a rest,” she snitted.

“Who’s the looker?” asked a fifth voice, another woman, with long, beautiful brown hair and a sharp, appraising glint in her eyes.

“How many of you are there?” Neal wondered, looking past them through the door as the bedroom filled with bodies. He began to panic a little – sure, they were dwarves, but they still outnumbered him. Neal retreated against a wall when the volume of the voices in the room amped up as they all started talking at once and milling around, and he was forced to put his hands over his ears.

A high-pitched whistle cut through the noise and they all stopped speaking at once as one more of them entered the now-crowded room. This dwarf was another woman, with large blue eyes, skin the color of ivory, and beautiful, dark hair; Neal thought if she were a human he could fall in love with her. She stood before them all with her hands on her hips, glaring at them. “What the heck, you guys, can’t you see you’re scaring the kid?”

“I’m no kid!” Neal squeaked and cursed his breaking voice. But dammit, he was seventeen!

“And I’m five feet tall,” the blue-eyed beauty cracked, and everyone laughed. “Who are ya, kid, and what brings you here?”

Neal eyed them all with not a little trepidation. “I – I was lost in the woods.”

“He _says_ he stopped in for a rest and he _claims_ he cleaned up the place as repayment,” the bald one said accusingly.

“Aw, shut up, Shifty, at least he’s got good manners,” she said, shutting him down. She eyed Neal carefully, then beamed at him. “Come on, kid, you barely look like butter’d melt in your mouth.” She held a small hand out to him, beckoning him to come out into the great room with her. He leaned over and took it, content to let her lead him away; her manner instilled in him a sense of trust, like she’d take good care of him, and after the way his life had been going lately, he was relieved to let someone else have control.

She led him to the great room and bade him sit down on the floor in front of the fire, then made tea for everyone. Seating herself primly on a stool in front of him, she fixed him with a gimletty eye for a second before finally speaking again, her voice cutting through the whispered conversations her fellows were having about Neal right in front of him, speculating as to his identity and purpose. “So what’s your name, kid? What brings you to this neck of the Great Woods?”

Neal considered lying – after all, he was pretty good at it, if he did say so himself – but something about this dwarf woman’s manner told him she did not suffer fools kindly. “I’m Neal. I, uh, I ran away from home.”

“Ohhh,” the long-haired female cooed, rising and pulling his head against her chest. “You poor lamb,” she said, petting Neal's hair, “was your family very cruel?” Neal felt his face go red.

“Cut it, Alex, he’s just a kid,” the blue eyed one said, hopping down from her stool. “Pleased to meet you, Neal. My given name is Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Bossy.” It was the custom of the realm for folks big and small to have two names – the one given them by their parents, and one they earned. “That over there is Sneaky,” she said by way of introduction. “Mind your moneypurse.”

“Hey!” Neal exclaimed as the dark-haired beauty attempted to pick his pocket. 

“And you’ve already met Shifty.”

“Call me Moz,” the bald, bespectacled one insisted.

“And this is my Dad,” Bossy said, “Hughes, but we call him WASPy.” The elder dwarf gave a jaunty salute and went back to reading the Wall Street Journal and ignoring them all.

“They call me Cranky,” the third female said, “but my given name is Diana.”

“And I’m Jones,” said the last one. 

“What’s your other name?” Neal asked politely.

“Just Jones.”

“So there are six of you here? Six dwarves in the house?”

A joyful bark sounded outside and a yellow Labrador Retriever bounded into the room and went straight to Bossy’s side. She laughed, patting him on the head. “Here’s our seventh, Doggy!”

“Pleased to meet you all!” Neal said with his most charming smile. 

“What’s your other name?” Jones asked.

Neal's face colored. “I dunno…” he said, embarrassed to give it.

“Come on,” WASPy said, waggling his patrician brows. “Can’t be any worse than mine.” 

“Snow White.”

Peals of laughter rang out and Neal turned the color of beets. “Not so white now,” Cranky said through teary eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Neal said – he was used to his name getting this reaction. “My mother gave it to me,” he added, “before she died.”

That took the air out of the room. “Aw, I’m sorry, honey. Why’d she call you that?” Bossy asked, wiping the tears out of her eyes with a tea towel.

“She said she wished for a baby with skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony, and eyes as blue as the sky after a storm,” he muttered sullenly.

“Well she got her wish,” Sneaky said appreciatively.

“She sure did,” Bossy agreed. “It’s a fine name, Snow White, it is.” A glare at her fellows quelled any remaining mirth. She clapped her hands together. “So! What did you make us for dinner?”

xXxXxXxXx

“Huntsman!” Evil King James bellowed from his bejeweled throne. “Come before us!”

There was a general murmur about the court as the hulking form of a hunter made his way before the king, a wooden box in his great hands. “Majesty,” he said quietly as he got on bended knee before their ruler.

Evil King James leaned forward and raised a brow. “Did you, uh, you know, take care of that thing? With that guy? In the place?”

Fowler the Huntsman did not let the contempt he held for the ruler of the land show on his face. The Evil and corrupt King, jealous of the looks and talent of his only son Snow White, had ordered the Huntsman to take the boy into the Great Woods, kill him, and bring back his heart to him in a box. So much for a smooth succession when the time came. 

“It is done, Majesty,” Fowler said, handing the box over to a courtier. He was a man of few words. 

Evil King James couldn’t contain his glee when he peeked inside the box at his grisly treasure. “I shall have it lightly pan-seared for my dinner, perhaps with some pickled scapes,” he mused, handing it off to a lackey.

Fowler the Huntsman hid his expression of distaste – the King was a usurper who’d assumed the throne upon the death of his wife Queen Ellen, denying their infant son his birthright and banishing him to the kitchens to be brought up by the servants. Now, sixteen years after the Queen’s death, amid rumors of war among the nobles to back young prince Snow White’s claim to the throne upon reaching legal age, Evil King James had ordered his murder. Or so Fowler the Huntsman had surmised – hell, it made evil sense to remove a rival. 

_Fowler had tried to harden his heart as he took the lad out into the Great Woods, but when he’d drawn his sword and looked down upon the young, innocent face, he found he could not do it._

_“Please, what have I done?” Snow White had said, his blue eyes wide with fear._

_“You live. That is apparently enough,” Fowler replied. “You have a great enemy. It is he who has ordered this.”_

_“I know the Evil King is my father, I’ve known for some time,” the boy admitted, the shame of that knowledge plain on his face, “but I have not let that stand in the way of living the honorable life I choose for myself. And I have lived the best kind of life I know how, brought up without a mother’s love or a father’s guidance. Please, I have nothing to offer but my gratitude, yet I beg you for mercy.”_

_He was so beautiful, so guileless, that Fowler the Huntsman felt his heart soften. “Yeah, OK, go on, get out of here. But do not return to the city, for the King will surely execute us both for this deception.”_

_“Thank you, good Huntsman,” Snow White said, a dazzling smile lighting up his pretty face. “I will not forget it.” He ran off and Fowler tracked and killed a wild boar, taking the meat to his family and the beast’s heart to the king as proof he’d done his evil bidding._

xXxXxXxXx

Neal cleared the dishes while the dwarves sang bawdy sea shanties – who knew dwarves were a sea-faring race? His face colored at some of the lyrics, but the tunes were catchy. He scraped the leftovers into a bowl for Doggy and then did the washing up.

The night continued apace, with more singing and, eventually, flagons of ale, followed by drunken singing and drunken arm wrestling, which the women were surprisingly good at. Neal resolved never to underestimate a woman’s strength again. He sat in the corner, watching their fun, but eventually the exhaustion of his ordeal of the last few days since he’d been spared by Fowler caught up to him, and he was soon drowsing with his chin in his hand.

“Awww, look, the kid’s exhausted,” Bossy observed. 

“He can sleep in my bed!” Sneaky offered.

“Why does that offer not surprise me?” Cranky asked.

“You’re just jealous you didn’t think of it first.”

“Hardly.”

“Ladies, come on, quit bickering," Bossy chided. "Our beds are too small anyway – we’ll make him a pallet by the fire for tonight.” She went to Neal and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake “Come on, sweetie, time for bed.” 

He blinked at her and followed her to a bed the others had made for him of soft down and pillows, and had the best night’s sleep of his life. 

The next morning, he rose early and made them all breakfast before they set off to work in their mine – who knew dwarves were a mining people? – then prepared to leave.

“You’re not going, are you?” Jones asked. 

“It’s not safe out there all alone, you’re just a kid,” Cranky pointed out.

“Stay,” WASPy offered.

“Thanks, but I can’t. I’ve taken advantage of your kindness enough already.”

“But where will you go?” Bossy said.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“No, you’ll stay with us, kid, it’s safe here,” said Shifty, and seven sets of eyes landed on him, surprised. “What? I’m gonna kick the kid out into the cruel world? He made us pancakes!”

“Then it’s settled!” Bossy said with a smile. “You’ll stay here.” She held up a hand at Neal's attempt at protesting. “You can keep our house for us – you’ve done a better job of it than us anyway. What do you say?”

Neal thought a moment. Their home was warm and cozy and he felt safe here; it would do until he could figure out what he wanted to accomplish in his life. “OK,” he said with a smile, and everyone said, “Hurray!” except Doggy who barked frantically to be let out.

So Snow White came to stay with the Seven Dwarves and they made a happy life for themselves for many months. But as happens in such tales, soon there were storm clouds on the horizon.

xXxXxXxXx

“Mirror, Mirror, on the wall, who is the sneakiest of them all?” Evil King James said, preening before the magical mirror that hung in his Evil bathroom.

“Well, that’d be you, darling, without a doubt.” June, the enchanted mirror, said with a bored affect. She had been Good Queen Ellen’s possession, and had helped her and her father before her to rule wisely by reflecting images of injustice in the land. Now she just felt like a party favor. And as happened from time to time, the king, who despite being the ultimate ruler, had self-esteem issues out the wazoo, and was this day in need of some reinforcement.

Evil King James smiled proudly. “And Mirror, Mirror, hanging there, who is the noblest, and most fair?”

“Honey, you’re evil and you’re the king, do we really need do this thing?” June hedged.

“We do if you don’t want to be sold at the next Royal Flea Market,” he said between gritted teeth. 

“Well, baby, you’re a handsome devil, ‘tis true, ‘tis true. But I already told you that Snow White is way hotter’n you.”

June was grateful that this time, the King’s reaction at hearing the truth didn’t result in any more dents to her frame. Instead, the king’s face went white with suppressed anger, and he stepped closer. “Show me,” he said dangerously.

“He is well away, why dwell on it?” June asked. She liked Neal and didn’t want to see him harmed.

“He is a threat to the kingdom and to me. Show me.” He grabbed June’s frame and squeezed, his thumb digging into the gilded wood.

“Very well! Here!” June presented him with the image of a cozy cottage in a clearing in the woods, where a handsome young man could be seen tending a tidy garden.

“The Huntsman deceived me,” Evil King James said. “I will deal with him presently. Well, my Dad always said if an evil job needs doing, you’d better do it yourself.” 

“Come on, he’s just a kid, sire. What threat can he pose?”

“Don’t be naïve, June. Now, where’s my Big Book o’ Evil Spells?”

xXxXxXxXx

One sunny day not long after, Neal was puttering around in the dwarves’ cottage when he heard a ruckus up on the Great Road that passed through the woods nearby. Looking out the window, he saw a farmer with a cart and a horse, but the cart had lost a wheel, and the farmer was staring at it with his hands on his head in despair.

“Can I help?” Neal offered, running up to speak to the farmer.

The man turned, and Neal thought he caught an evil glint in his blue eyes before the man tugged at his forelock and bowed his head. Deciding it was a trick of the sunlight, Neal shrugged and gave the man a friendly smile.

“Oh, young master, I’ve lost me cartwheel,” the farmer said in a broad accent. “However will I bring me apples to market without transportation?”

“Well, I have a strong back and clever fingers. I can repair your wheel and help you to remount it on the cart. Let me see.” Neal picked up the wheel and surveyed the broken spoke at the center. “I think I have some wood that’ll fix that right up, just give me a sec.” He bounded off and soon returned with wood and tools, and within the hour, he had it repaired.

“Thank ye, young man, thank ye. Ye are a kind soul to be helpin’ a poor farmer.”

“’No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of another,’” Neal said. “My friend Shifty taught me that saying. It’s my pleasure, sir.”

“Here, let me repay ye wi’ some apples.”

“Oh, no, I can’t,” Neal said. “You’ll need to sell those, for money for your family.” 

“I owe you a debt, and it must be paid,” the farmer said a bit too insistently. “Take a small basket full at least.” 

“Well, I’ll just take this small basket – I can make a pie for dinner, I suppose.”

“Don’t you want to try them first? Look at this’un – so red and juicy.” The farmer pressed a shiny, red specimen into Neal's hands. Neal found his mouth watering at the sight of the succulent fruit.

“I did skip lunch,” he said, then took the apple, polished it against his shirt, and took a big bite. The fruit was juicy and tart, just perfect for a pie, and Neal smiled at the farmer as he took another bite. But soon, he felt very strange, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body, as his tongue and all his extremities went numb. “What – what’s happening?” he wondered aloud.

“Is something wrong, young man?”

“I dunno – I feel so strange, I –“ Neal fumbled for the edge of the cart to steady himself, but he was too weak and fell to the ground instead. He lay on his back, blinking up at the sun shining through the trees, panicking as his vision tunneled. Soon, he was aware of a shadow falling upon his face, and he looked over, expecting to see the face of the farmer before him. But this was no longer the hard-working man whose cart Neal had helped to repair; in his place was the cold yet handsome face of Evil King James, his blue eyes glittering coldly.

“Tough breaks, kid. When you ran, you shoulda kept going.”

Neal's mouth worked, but he could no longer speak or move. The King’s face retreated and Neal was left alone. The last thing he heard before it all went black was his father’s evil laugh in his ears.

xXxXxXxXx

_“High ho. High ho. She spent all her means on blow.”_

“Must all our songs go blue?” WASPy complained.

“What, it’s a tradition,” Jones pointed out.

Doggy barked once and ran on ahead of the group. He liked to go and let Neal know they were all coming home in the evenings. But the dwarves knew something was up when the animal returned too soon, and barked at them frantically before running back along the road.

“No, no, no,” Bossy said as she saw Neal's body lying in the middle of the road, and she took off at a run, her fellows soon following.

“What is it, what happened?” Shifty wailed.

Bossy was feeling for a pulse, leaning over Neal's face to feel his breath against her cheek, but there was none. He was paler than usual, and cold to the touch. “I – I think he’s dead,” Bossy said, her voice breaking. “Oh, Neal.” She took his limp hand in hers as the others gathered around, and they wept for the loss of their beloved foster son.

\----

The dwarves worked through the night, using their skills to fashion a beautiful, glass coffin – who knew dwarves were expert metallurgists and glaziers? – for Neal. They filled it with the softest grasses and mosses, cleaned his clothes and dressed him, and combed his hair back from his brow until it shone. Finally, they laid him inside, and stood around him forlornly, not wishing to say goodbye.

“He was teaching me how to draw,” Cranky said, her lips quivering as she bent to leave a soft kiss on Neal's brow before moving on, “we were just getting to perspective.”

“You’re a good boy,” WASPy said, patting Neal on the hand before retreating, upper lip as stiff as ever.

“Here you go, kid,” Sneaky said, slipping Neal's moneypurse back into his pocket and retreating with a sniffle.

“It was murder, I’m tellin’ ya!” Shifty insisted, but quieted after a sharp look from Bossy. “I’ll miss ya, mon frère,” he finished, and bent to kiss the young man on the cheek.

Jones just sobbed quietly in the corner while petting Doggy forlornly.

“Goodbye Neal, our Snow White. You brought us happiness and light, and love so pure and bright. We’ll miss you.” Bossy laid the garlands of flowers she’d made around Neal and then closed the lid of the glass coffin, turning to WASPy and throwing her hands around his neck to sob plaintively into his neck.

xXxXxXxXx

Charming Prince Peter rode along the High Road on his trusty steed Taurus, whistling a happy tune to himself. Some days ago, he had embarked on a journey of discovery – as was the tradition of his people when a noble youth came of age. He had been exploring the lands beyond his own father’s kingdom of Efbeeyi, and found many wonders to be marveled over.

In this particular kingdom, however, despite the people being kind and hard-working, he’d learned of the usurper, Evil King James, and the horrible things he’d done to maintain his power. While he knew he was merely a visitor, and it was none of his affair, Charming Prince Peter nevertheless felt a growing desire to see justice done, though how he might do that without a military action, he had no idea. He resolved to bring it up with his father when he returned.

Presently, Peter came upon a small procession of dwarves, who were rolling a great glass box along the road with utmost care. “How now, kind folk,” he called as he rode closer and dismounted. “Where do you go with so great a burden?” 

As he spoke, Charming Prince Peter noticed the somber looks on the dwarves’ faces and, peering at the box, he saw that it was in actuality a casket, and inside was laid a young man. “What has happened?” 

“Before you is Snow White, the fairest in the land,” their leader said, a pretty female with bright blue eyes that were red-tinged from weeping. “He was the kindest and the best, but now he is gone.”

Peter stepped closer and laid his hands atop the casket, peering at the boy within. He had dark, wavy hair and perfect skin that was clearly the reason for his name. His face was, simply put, beautiful, with a strong, chiseled jaw and a straight, delicate nose, and lips the color of rubies. With a pang of joy swiftly quashed by grief, Peter fell in love with him, then realized that his feelings were in vain. 

“He cannot be dead, he is so perfect, unsullied. Surely, this is some enchantment?”

“If there is, it is beyond our ken,” the bald one said, “though we won’t rule out foul play!”

“Moz, shh!” the blue-eyed woman admonished him, and he pressed his lips together.

“Please, I must see him, touch him,” Peter begged.

“That right there is kinda creepy,” one of the other women observed.

“I meant so that I could determine if it’s an enchantment – I’m not a total sicko,” Peter defended himself.

“Oh. OK. Sure.” 

The dwarves unsealed the coffin’s lid and Peter stepped forward. “My Cousin, Charming Prince Gordon, found his wife the Sleeping Beauty because of an enchantment. He said there was the undeniable scent of chocolate chip cookies around – don’t ask me why.” 

“Probably to attract a guy – fresh-baked cookies always bring me running,” said the dark-skinned man, and all the others nodded in agreement.

Peter bent over and sniffed, and had a sudden craving for a cold glass of milk. “As I thought – there _is_ an enchantment at work here.”

The dwarves milled around him, demanding to know how to break it.

“Without the person who cast it to reverse it, there’s only one other way. True love’s first kiss.”

“Oh.”

“Um.”

“We like him, but we’re not that into humans, you dig?” said the bald one.

“Not you!” Peter said. “I meant me!”

“True love?” the blue-eyed female scoffed. “Pull the other one.”

“What, you don’t believe in love at first sight?” 

“It’s a fairy tale, there’s no such thing.”

“I disagree,” Peter said, his eyes on Snow White’s beautiful face. “When you see the face of your true love, you know it. And I have seen him this day.” Then, without thinking, without talking more about it, Charming Prince Peter leaned over and placed a chaste kiss upon the yielding lips of the youth in the casket.

Immediately, Peter felt warmth return to a body gone cold in apparent death. Snow White drew a breath and blinked open his eyes, and looked up at Peter with wonder in his eyes. “I knew it would be you. I dreamed it,” he said, throwing his arms around Peter’s neck and kissing him back.

xXxXxXxXx

It was some weeks later, and the kingdom of Efbeeyi was abuzz with the pending nuptials of Charming Prince Peter and his new groom, Snow White Neal.

“I dunno, Neal, this is all happening so fast,” Moz said, even as he fashioned a beautiful cloak pin out of sapphires and gold as a wedding present. 

Neal poured out a glass of the finest wine for his friend. “When it’s right, it’s right, Moz. Peter loves me and I love him. Tonight, we marry, and live happily ever after.”

“But your dear old dad is still out there – I don’t like it.”

“Stop being paranoid – why would he want to hurt me? I’m happy and out of his kingdom forever. I never wanted the throne, and I wouldn’t take it even if I did.”

“’Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's needs, but not every man's greed,’” Moz quoted. “Just because you aren’t a threat, doesn’t mean he won’t perceive you as one. He’ll do anything to keep power, mark my words.”

Neal scoffed, in the easy way of optimists everywhere, and continued getting dressed for the wedding. Moz, living up to his nickname, made his own plans.

\----

“If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two young men,” the Bishop paused to beam at each of the handsome young men before him, Charming Prince Peter in his ceremonial naval uniform, Neal in a suit of blue to bring out his eyes, “let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”

“I object!” a voice rang out from the back of the cathedral, and a shocked gasp went up from the crowd.

“Who dares!” shouted Dashing King Byron.

“Is it not customary for the hand of a son to be sought after from his father?” Evil King James sneered. All at once, the lights in the place lowered, except for a beam that fell strategically upon James’ handsome yet evil face, making his teeth gleam. 

“A son you tried to murder!” Peter accused, stepping protectively in front of Neal.

“A family quarrel,” James said dismissively. “But now, as is my right, I claim parental privilege and deny my permission for this union.”

“No!” Neal cried, stepping forward. “You rejected me as a child, left me to be brought up in drudgery and anonymity, and now you want to claim me? Why?”

“I don’t need to give you a credible reason, I’m your father.”

“I will not come.”

The room darkened further as Evil King James, who was also a powerful wizard, conjured a ball of dark lightning in his right hand. Rearing back, he threw it at Neal and Peter. Neal stepped forward, intending to take the full brunt of the magical blast upon himself, but its force dissipated just before it touched him, shattering into a thousand harmless droplets of water, like a fine mist. 

Shocked, Neal looked up at his father, and the pureness of his spirit shone forth, restoring the lights to the great cathedral. 

Gnashing his perfect teeth and crying out in rage and frustration, Evil King James said, “So my magic will do no good? Let us see if good old fashioned steel will do.” Suddenly, he lashed out an arm, and a dagger flew, sinking itself into Charming Prince Peter’s body. He silently fell as another collective gasp rose up from the crowd.

“My son!” Dashing King Byron cried.

“RAWR!” Snow White Neal shouted and lunged at his father.

The fight between the two was fearsome to behold, with Neal taking out a lifetime of anger and resentment on the man who’d abandoned him so cruelly. Evil King James, however, was older and stronger, and soon had Neal on the floor, straddling him in his triumph. 

“At last I will be shot of you,” he sneered down at his son. “You look just like your mother, you know that? Makes me want to puke.”

“You are evil and I hate you,” Neal spat, defiant even if he knew it would be the last thing he said.

“Ah ha!” James said, drawing another dagger from within his robes.

“Neal!” Moz shouted, and threw something long and gleaming through the air.

Thinking fast, Neal's hand shot out and he caught the sword Moz had concealed within the ornamental cane he’d used to accessorize his wedding outfit. Turning it outward, Neal felt it sink into Evil King James’ chest even as he lunged at Neal with his dagger. Wincing, James dropped the dagger and fell to the side, dead.

“Hurray!” the crowd shouted.

“Peter!” Neal cried, scrambling to his feet and rushing to his prince’s side.

“Ow,” Charming Prince Peter said, wincing at the dagger sunk deeply in his shoulder, but Bossy was with him, using all her medical know-how, and declared the wound to be non-life threatening. “You sure do have issues, Snow White,” he said with a wry smile.

“Yeah, but I think I just worked a lot of them out,” Neal replied, kissing his love.

\---- 

And they all lived happily ever after. 

Thank ye for your time.

**Author's Note:**

> Neal’s quote, “’No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of another” is from Charles Dickens.
> 
> Moz’s quote, “Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's needs, but not every man's greed” is by Mahatma Gandhi.


End file.
